The Waterhole
by Doctor Wheel
Summary: The new bar in Teufort has one rule: pay first, drink later. Any rule breakers will suffer at the hands of the calm but strict bar owner/ bartender, Willow. What will happen when she meets the mercs of both BLU and RED? Rated T for violence and language.
1. The Bar

**A/N: I don't own TF2. Only own my OC.**

* * *

The shatter of glass was heard as a bottle of rum was smashed against a drunken patron's head. The contents spilled all over him, shards of the bottle imbedded in his cranium. His head then hit the counter in front of him and he slumped to the ground, bleeding.

"Oooow, why didya do that missy?" he slurred out. "I only wanted to hug yah,"

"Touch me and I'm gonna castrate yah!" said the other figure holding the now broken bottle. She had the look of death in her brown eyes.

The young woman had long black hair that was tied in a ponytail, which was sticking out from the back of a blue and red colored baseball cap. She wore a slightly, faded blue shirt with one sleeve torn off. She had brown colored jean shorts, and black sneakers. On her waist was a holster that held a revolver.

"Now we don't hafta be so mean- YEEEOOW!" the man suddenly screamed in pain. He put his hand back on the counter only to have the smashed bottle come down on it, pinning him to the counter.

"Now hear me out, bilge rat," she hissed at him. "You've been disorderly for the past three hours, and I've asked you to leave for the umpteenth time. If you don't leave now, I'm going to put you in a coma that you will NEVER wake up from, got it?"

The man nodded quickly. She yanked the bottle out of his hand, and the man scurried away into the darkness of the night.

"Fucking drunks…" she mumbled under her breath as she went to clean up the mess.

The other bar patrons had ignored the confrontation. In fact, they were used to it. Every night there was at least one drunk that pushed the bartender too far and ended up getting beat up badly by her. Bikers, tough guys, cowboys, criminals, all fell to the bartender no matter what.

The Waterhole was known for having some of the best booze in the town of Teufort, and became quite popular after the residences heard word of it. Besides having the best beer, the bar was also noticeable for its no-nonsense owner and bartender, Willow.

Most people thought it was strange having a woman run a bar, considering the dangers to it. But after seeing her quickly take down two large fellows who wouldn't pay for their drinks, they quickly reconsidered.

When Willow finished sweeping up the glass on the floor and countertop, a man entered the bar.

"Sup, Frank," she said. "The usual?"

Frank nodded as he got out a five-dollar bill. Willow slid him a bottle of beer. Basically, ordering at the Waterhole was simple, no money, and no booze.

"How much today?" he asked her.

"Only one so far," she replied as she used her arm to wipe the sweat off her face. "I'm really hoping for one day that there are none,"

Frank chuckled. "So you hope,"

She leaned against the wall that held some of the spirits used for other drinks, and looked at a clock.

8:37

"If nothing happens within two hours, then everything will be all right," she thought.

It would appear she spoke too soon, as a commotion started outside.

"Or not," she got up and walked towards the front to see what was happening outside.

She didn't have to walk far as a fight between two men spilled inside the bar. Other bar customers quickly moved out of the way so they wouldn't get sucked into the bartender's wrath.

Willow quickly jumped into the fight and when the dust settled, she had the two fighters in a headlock under each arm. One had a helmet covering his entire head, while the other had a black beanie on. Both men were visibly tired and beaten. What was interesting was they were wearing similar, red uniforms.

"Now what in the world were you two thinking by taking your little scuffle in here?"

The only reply the men gave to her was only snoring; both of them fell asleep due to exhaustion. Rolling her eyes, she dropped the two to the floor.

Willow was considering what to do with them when a man with hardhat and a similar red uniform opened the doors of the bar.

"I found the two!" he shouted outside. He walked over to Willow, "Sorry about that ma'am," he said. "We've been looking for those two ever since they ran off,"

"Friends of yours?" she asked.

"More like co-workers," said the hardhat as he took the helmet wearing man under the shoulder. "Heavy will yah help?" as he said that a large mountain of a man wearing red came through the double doors and picked up the beanie wearing man and draped him over his shoulder.

"See yah," said the hardhat as both he and "Heavy" left the bar.

The bar was silent for a while, before everyone went back to what they were doing before.

"Who were those people?" Willow asked Frank, as she got back behind the bar counter.

"You don't know?" he said, confused. "Oh right, you're new here. Those men are mercs who work for some kind of company, Reliable Excavation and Demolitions I think?"

"RED, huh?" she thought. "No wonder why they were all wearing red,"

"They fight with similar looking men who work for Builder's League United, down at the Gravel Pits,"

"Are you people not worried about having hired guns in this close proximity to you?"

Frank shook his head. "Nah, they only fight each other. We don't bother them, they don't bother us,"

"Over what?"

"Over what now?"

"What are they fighting for?"

Frank shrugged. "Beats me, I've heard its gone over a hundred years already,"

This puzzled Willow, who fights for a hundred years for something? But she let the question slip, people started filling up the bar, and money needed to be made.

* * *

 **A/N: And here we go again. Another TF2 story, but this time it involves someone who doesn't interact with the mercs as much. Just trying something new, considering The Rift, and The Love of Technology sound almost the same.**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	2. The Mercs

**A/N: Ditto.**

 **Shoutout to HeadCollector, Maximillianlmv, Meerhawk, and h0mesTUCkTrAsh for favoriting, and to** **HeadCollector, Maximillianlmv, and Meerhawk for following.**

* * *

The sound of a piano echoed through the speakers of a radio. Though she didn't look like the type, she actually enjoyed a bit of classical music now and then.

The bar was currently closed, and no one but herself was inside. Willow enjoyed the silence before the bar was opened, no idiots shouting, no one being a dumbass, just pure plain and simple silence.

She played with a pocketknife she kept on her, opening and closing it, and balancing the point on her finger. As she did, a knock was heard on the door.

"WE'RE CLOSED!" she shouted.

The knocking continued and she decided to ignore it. But every time the door knocked, she lost more and more of her patience, until she finally threw the knife at the door and decided to answer it.

She walked over to the door and pulled the knife from it before opening the door. She saw that it was the same person wearing red and the hardhat.

"What is it?" she asked with a hint of annoyance. "We're closed,"

"Uh, sorry about that, well, um," started the hardhat. "I've heard that this place had some good beer, and I was wondering if I can pick up some and take it back to the others?"

"Unless you can pay for it now, come back when we're open," but before she could close the door the hardhat said,

"Wait I have the money!" and produced a large stack of bills.

Willow looked at the money before giving him a small smile. "How much do yah need?"

 **Later on that night**

The bar was busy as usual. The regulars coming in and buying booze before sitting down and conversing with other bar patrons.

Willow was keeping an eye on things, as she always did. Her gaze sent shivers down anyone who would accidentally make eye contact with her. So far nothing out of the ordinary happened, no one has gotten drunk yet, or was causing a commotion.

The double doors suddenly burst open, gaining the attention of everyone, well, almost everyone. A guy with a tattered cap was lying on the floor with his ass in the air, most likely passed out from having one too many.

"Why can't anyone open a door like a normal person?" Willow asked with a sigh.

"You see that?" said a very boisterous voice. "That is how you make an entrance,"

The voice belonged to a young man, most likely around the same age as Willow, with him was the same hardhat from before, and another man in a lab coat with glasses. The man in the lab coat slapped the young man in the back of the head.

"Scout, you know that is the main reason why we cannot go to places without starting a fight," the man said in a thick German accent.

"Doctor, doctor, doctor," said Scout. "Like anyone is going to- oh," Scout noticed a large group of men standing in front of the three.

"Causing trouble like usual, you mercs?" said a large man standing in front of Scout. "Well you better not cause any here, pal, or there will be consequences for you three,"

"Oooo yeah, real scary,"

"That wasn't a threat," said someone else. "He's giving you actual advice,"

"Wait what now?"

"The bartender is known to lay the smack down on troublemakers who step in here," the man said. "God forbid how many poor souls were lost,"

"So who's this bartender?"

"Her," he pointed to Willow.

Scout looked at Willow before looking at the man. "You serious, all of you are afraid of her, a girl?" He then started to laugh uncontrollably.

The men looked at each other with nervous looks. The man went over to the hardhat. "I think you should get your pal to shut up, cause if he doesn't…"

"Too late," another squeaked out. "She's coming,"

The others quickly retreated to the other areas of the bar, and out of the way of Willow.

Scout was still laughing when Willow approached him. He stopped laughing to say something.

"Hey there beauti-" he never got to say more because Willow roundhouse kicked him in the head, and sent him to the floor knocked out cold.

"He'll be fine," Willow said. "So I take your friends liked the beer?"

"Yup," replied the hardhat.

"Hey, I never got your name yet, what is it?"

"Oh, pardon me miss, I'm Engineer, this is Medic, and the person that you just kicked was Scout,"

"Willow," she said.

"Well, its mighty fine to meet you Miss Willow. I'm sorry about the way Scout acted,"

"It's fine, I see it happen all the time, and just call me Willow,"

"Awwugh," said Scout as he regained consciousness. "I think I lost a tooth again,"

"And that is why you should keep your mouth shut, Scout," said Medic.

"Yeah, yeah," he said as he rubbed the blood coming from his mouth.

"You three better be here to buy drinks, or else you're wasting my time," she said, her mood changing.

"We are," said Medic. "In fact we may have to come here often it seems,"

"We are?" asked Scout.

"At the rate Demo drinks, yes we do," said Engineer as he checked his pockets. "Shoot, left the money back in my truck, wait a moment," he ran out the doors.

Willow noticed it was quite quiet in the bar when Engineer left, "If you are all still staring here by the time I look around…"

The bar immediately got noisy again.

"That's better, so I take it you are part of that RED company right?"

"Yes," said Medic. "But how did you know? I've never saw this place here before and I doubt you would…"

"Two of your co-workers brought their fight in here yesterday,"

"Hm, that makes sense,"

"You fucking hit like Heavy," said Scout. "HOW?"

"That's my secret," she said as she blew a bubble.

"No, no really, I want to know,"

"Too bad not telling yah,"

Before Scout could ask again Engineer ran in with a stack of money.

"Ok this should cover about ten cases," he said panting.

"I'll go get them," Willow said as she took the money from Engineer. As she walked away from the three, her smile faded. "They shouldn't know," she thought. "The past should never be revisited,"

* * *

 **A/N: So Willow doesn't like to talk about her past, especially when it's about her strength.**

 **Review Question: The Waterhole has many types of beer brands, what kind of creative brands should be in stock? (Please make sure the name is creative, and original, but appropriate)**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	3. Interlude 1

**A/N: Ditto. Shoutout to Metherarto and FrostingFlames for following.**

* * *

 _WHACK!_

 _A metal baton smacked across a man's face. He was hurt badly, as his face was bruised and bloodied. He was breathing heavily as blood dripped down from his nose and onto his brown pants. His red aloha shirt was torn and was dirty. He coughed and spit blood. He looked up at the perpetrator._

 _The man with the baton was in some kind of uniform of some sorts. He held a baton in one hand and slapped it in his other. He raised the baton and hit the other man once again._

 _The two were in a darkened room made of concrete. Four other men surrounded the two, all wearing black tactical armor, gas masks, and each held an assault rifle._

 _"So Professor," said the man with the baton. "It seems that we have underestimated your will, no?"_

 _The other man glared at him and spit on his shoes. "Kiss my ass," he said._

 _"For someone who looks like a gentleman, you don't act like one,"_

 _"I dare to be different,"_

 _"Tough guy aren't you? Shall we cut a deal?"_

 _"Fuck you,"_

 _Ignoring the remark the man continued, "Work with us and you will be rewarded, Professor Clint, resist, and your punishment will be even worse than what it is right now,"_

 _"Work? For you? HA!" said Professor Clint. "I'd rather die than work for the likes of you. My creations are to be used for innovation, for the better of humanity, not for conquest, or genocide,"_

 _The man chuckled. "Oh Mr. Clint, we ARE doing this for the better of humanity," he said. "By eliminating those who are inferior, we can create a society of better people,"_

 _"Bullshit," Clint sang in a singsong voice._

 _The man didn't look amused at Clint's response and took another swing at Clint, earning another round of swearing from the latter._

 _"Mr. Clint you are only making it harder on yourself, stand down and make it easier for yourself,"_

 _As all this was going on, someone was lurking in the vent above the six. It was watching every single move they made. The figure reached for something, and carefully opened the vent. It dropped the object in and waited._

 _The man raised the baton to strike Clint again only to be stopped when he heard something drop. He turned to look what made the noise._

 _A flashbang._

 _When the flashbang went off, the figure dropped into the room. It pulled out a pistol and gunned down each of the armed men. It then pulled out a knife and slit the baton wielding man's throat, leaving him to die drowning in his own blood._

 _When Clint's vision cleared, he looked around to find everyone dead. But what surprised him the most was the figure standing in front of him._

 _The figure was positively a female. She had her black hair in a simple ponytail, and the bottom half of her face and nose was covered with a black bandana. She wore a simple black shirt with a bulletproof vest, and black shorts with combat boots. At her waist were two holsters, with one gun missing, and on her belt were multiple grenades._

 _"Professor Gary Clint?" she asked._

 _"T-that's me…" he said._

 _The female went over to him and sliced the ropes holding him to the chair._

 _"Evac is going to be here any moment," she said as she tossed him one of the assault rifles. "You know how to use this?"_

 _Clint nodded as he fumbled with the rifle._

 _"Good," she said as she kicked the steel door off of its hinges._

 _"W-who are you?"_

 _"Agent Wilcox of the Black Hawks," she responded as she pocketed the knife and drew her second pistol. "I was sent here to get you out of here,"_

 _"Black Hawks?"_

 _"It will be explained to you once we get out of here," she said as she shot two approaching guards._

 _The two ran down dark hallways, finding an occasional squad of soldiers along the way and made their way to what looks to be a garden of some sorts. Swarms of soldiers soon surrounded the two, guns drawn._

 _"We're surrounded!" said Clint._

 _"Not for long, get down NOW!" she said as she tossed a flashbang into the air._

 _Using the blinding light as a distraction, Wilcox emptied her cartridges into the masses of soldiers, each soldier's head whipped violently as a bullet entered his skull._

 _When her pistols clicked empty, she tossed them and threw her knife at a charging soldier. It entered the man's neck, and stayed there. She ran and grabbed the man and used him as a shield as the others fired at her. She pounced when they were reloading; the knife went through a soldier's visor while her fist went through another's skull._

 _As those two soldiers fell, she saw the last one trying to run. She grabbed her knife and threw it at the soldier. The knife embedded itself in his calf and the man fell to the ground. He desperately tried to crawl away from the sadistic woman, but didn't get far. She calmly walked over to the man and grabbed both sides of his head._

 _In one swift motion, the man could now see behind him._

 _After the battle, or rather, the slaughter, the green garden was bathed in the color red. Clint could hardly believe what he just saw._

 _"What the fuck are you?" he thought._

* * *

 **CRACK!**

That was the sound of a cinderblock breaking. Willow tossed another one up before punching it. It shattered into multiple pieces. She was in another room of the bar. Aside from being her workplace, it was also her home.

 **CRACK!**

Another block made contact with her foot.

After a few minutes the entire floor was littered with dust, and parts of the broken cinderblocks.

Willow herself was dripping in sweat. Her shirt and hat carelessly throw on the side, leaving her only in her bra, shorts, and shoes. She seemed to be quite fit, as she has some muscle to her body. She picked up her shirt and hat and started to make her way to her room, but before she could she heard a knock on the door.

Rolling her eyes, she put her shirt back on and made her way to the door.

When she opened it she found no one. She looked around for anyone until she spotted a note under a rock by the door. She bent down and picked up the note. The note said:

"Hiding will not save you."

* * *

 **A/N: Not much of a "chapter" (at least for me), but didn't have much time to think stuff over. 'insert rambling here'**

 **Review Question: Same as previous chapter.**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	4. Someone New

**A/N: Ditto. Shoutout to Phun House, Summerpan, and sarakt318 for following and faving.**

* * *

Willow sat idly behind the bar counter. Tonight was unusually quiet for the Waterhole, most of the regulars were absent from their seats, and only noise came from the radio Willow had next to her. Her eyes were glued to the clock that hung above the liquor closet behind her, only breaking contact momentarily to check on the bar. Oh how she wanted the clock move faster so she could close up, in fact, she pondered whether or not to close up early due to the low customer traffic.

"The days I want action there isn't and days I don't want action there is," she groaned. She spun a discarded bottle of Australian Justice around on the countertop. The Mann Co. line of beers was ok, but it wasn't as good as the beers she sold.

"Wonder where everyone is tonight?" she mused out loud.

"They're at that fight club down at Charlie's," said a bearded man. "Surprised you never heard about it,"

"Fight club huh?" Willow said, clearly interested.

"Yeah, but I doubt you'll stand a chance there, no offense," he coughed. "I've been there once and nine out of ten times, someone has to be carried out,"

Willow never responded. She vaulted over the counter and walked to the door.

"Where're you going?"

"The fight club, now out!"

 **Time Skip**

The fight club was run in a dilapidated building near the outskirts of Teufort. Hoards of people crowded inside and outside the building, all wanting so see two fighters duke it out. Sure it was illegal, but that didn't stop the masses, heck even the police chief was there, watching and rooting with the other attendees.

Willow stood on the side watching two men beat the utter shit out of each other. She was quite bored at the "fight club". Her expectations of the club was quite high, but was rather disappointed since the quality of the fight was almost on par with the drunks back at the Waterhole.

"This is lame," she said as she tucked a strand of hair back under her hat. "I expected more from this shithole," she turned to leave the club when someone caught her eye.

Now most people inside the club were mostly males, and only the bravest of brave females would dare to step inside. The person that caught Willow's eyes was a girl about her age, and didn't look like she belonged here. Her black hair was neck length, and wasn't tied back. She wore blue jeans and had a violet shirt under a black jacket. She had sneakers, and had green eyes.

Willow slowly made her way to the girl, and tapped her on her shoulder. The girl "eeked" and jumped a bit before quickly turning to Willow.

"Sorry if I scared yah," Willow said as she blew a bubble and let it pop. "Name's Willow, what's yours?"

The girl fidgeted with her hands, she was clearly nervous.

"Hey, I ain't going to bite you. You should be more worried about the men in here rather than me,"

"D-D- Darla…" the girl got out after a tense moment. "M-m-my name's Darla,"

"Darla huh?" Willow mused a she blew another bubble. "What brings someone like you to a place like this? You don't look like a person that belongs here,"

"To be honest, I just saw this congregation of people and decided to look around," Darla said. "What is this anyways?"

"Right now you're standing in the world's worst fight club,"

"Fight club?"

"A place where people fight for the amusement of others,"

"Hmm, so that's why two guys are punching each other,"

"Well look what we have here," said a gruff voice that cut off Darla. "Yo guys, we have some dolls around here,"

Four men in leatherjackets, jean pants, or other words, bikers, surrounded the two.

"Dolls?" Willow looked around. "I don't see no frilly _girl_ toy around here, and aren't you too old for dolls?"

The leader chuckled. "Oh I like her," he said. "This is going to be good," he said as the group started to close on the two.

"I don't like where this is going Willow," said Darla.

"Hoho, finally some action," said Willow as a smile crept on her face.

"Action? Are you crazy?"

"Darla, you are like these chumps. You never seen me before, now duck,"

"What?"

"Duck!"

Darla ducked down as an opened pocketknife soared through the air and straight into one of the biker's eyes. He screamed so loud that everyone stopped what he or she was doing to look what was going on. Willow walked over and slowly pulled out the knife from the biker's eye. He fell to his knees and into the fetal position as he gripped his eye.

Willow's instincts took over as she heard a biker coming behind her. She swung a fist behind her and it connected to his face; popping a tooth out and knocking out the man out cold. The other biker got a sneaker to his face as he tried to sneak up on her. The man stumbled back and felt his jaw.

"Grab the other girl," the leader said as he got out a switchblade. "I'll deal with her,"

The man nodded and was about to follow the order, but a pocketknife embedded itself in the wooden wall beside him.

"Touch her and you're dead," Willow snarled.

The man gulped and backed off.

"Coward," the leader muttered. He sprinted towards Willow and swung the knife at her.

Willow dodged and sidestepped every swing of the knife. She expertly avoided every swipe while walking backward, around people. After a while, Willow caught the leader's knife-wielding hand, and broke his arm by snapping it in the wrong direction. The leader yelled in pain before Willow delivered a sucker punch to his face, effectively shutting him up. She turned to the only other biker who wasn't hurt that much.

"You better run if you don't want to end up like your friends here," she said as she walked over and yanked her knife out of the wall.

The guy nodded and ran out of the club.

Willow dusted her hands. "Well that was fun, and anyone who's still staring is going to get hurt!"

Everyone in club resumed what he or she was doing.

Willow helped Darla to her feet. "I'm going, try not to get in trouble anymore," she said before turning to leave. She disappeared within the crowd, leaving Darla shocked and confused.

* * *

"So Darla, how do you like the town?" asked a young woman who had glasses and wore a purple blouse and a black skirt.

"Oh it's nice, Ms. Pauling" she replied. Darla was a new assistant, or rather an intern, for Mann Co and she recently just started working at the weapon distributor. She was hired quite quickly, as Saxton Hale literally picked the first person to walk in the door, which, surprise, was Darla.

"You better like it," Ms. Pauling said as she scribbled down something on her clipboard. "It's the only place with people, other than the mercs, around here for hundreds of miles,"

 _"Yeah so I noticed,"_ she thought as she placed down a crate on top of a pile of crates. She had already met the mercs, and was pretty annoyed with most of them. She found herself constantly annoyed with the Scouts' whining, the Soldiers' rants, the Demo's drunkness, the Medics' constant obsession with body parts, and the Spies' snottiness. Overall, she only found serenity with the Pyros and Engineers. Why? Cause they were probably the politest out of all the others.

"Find anything interesting while there?" Pauling continued.

"Uhh, I did met someone, around my age, and no it wasn't a boy,"

Ms. Pauling chuckled.

"Her name was, ah, Willow, I believe, and boy she could fight! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she was a merc,"

"Willow…why does that name ring a bell?" said Ms. Pauling as she tapped her pencil against her lips. "Ah! I think I heard the mercs mention her name once, something about being a bartender in town…"

 _"Bartender?"_ Darla thought. _"Makes sense, but her fighting seems professional, like she was in some kind of special forces or something,"_

She then recalled something about Willow. _"For one, she's junkie for violence,"_ she thought. " _No wonder she doesn't feel any guilt after badly hurting someone…in fact she likes it,"_

Darla had to ask the mercs more about this bartender, it seems that there is something more to Willow then what she saw.

* * *

 **A/N: And this story isn't dead. Like with my other stories, chapters will take longer to get out. Otherwise just hang in there!**

 **Review Question: Would Willow be someone you would want to meet in life?**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	5. Gunfight at the Waterhole

**A/N: Ditto. Shoutout to ArwenTheDumbAuthor, KIllahKimSter, Capricorn the mediocre, DemonsPain88, doctor3378, and wishindo for following and faving!**

* * *

Darla found the RED Engineer in the RED team's garage working on his PDA.

"Hi there Mr. Conagher," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"

The Engineer stopped working on the PDA and turned on his chair to face her.

"Sure you can, but call me Dell or Engi," he said. "Mr. Conagher is my father,"

"Um, I was wondering if you or any of the other mercs may know someone by the name Willow,"

"Oh Willow! She's the owner and bartender of the Waterhole back in town," he chuckled. "Carries good beer and boy can she fight…"

 _"No kidding she can fight,"_ Darla thought.

"…took down both Soldier and Demo without breaking a sweat," he continued.

"Do you know anything else about her?"

Engineer rubbed his chin. "Ah, not really. We've only seen her for about a week around Teufort, and I doubt any of the guys would know more about her,"

"Ok, thanks Engi!"

"No problem!" he said as he turned back and started to work again.

 _"Guess the mercs don't know much about her,"_ she thought. _"Looks like I have to find out on my own,"_

* * *

 **Tick…Tick…Tick…POP!**

Willow idly blew another bubble as the clock ticked. It wasn't for another hour until the bar opened, and the bartender was bored out of her mind.

"Hm, wonder if I should open earlier…nah, sounds stupid," she mumbled to herself.

A knock on the bar's door snapped her out of thought.

"Engi guy probably," she said as she picked up her revolver that was lying on the countertop and holstered it. She walked to the door and opened it up, but to her surprise it wasn't Engi.

It was Darla.

"Darla? What are you doing here?" Willow asked as she looked around the girl. "Is it those same nimrods again? Oh I'm going to fucking castra-"

"NO! No, I'm not being harassed again, Willow," Darla said. "I just wanted to ask you some questions,"

"Oh, came inside then,"

She let Darla in and jumped over the counter.

"So whatdya need?" Willow asked as she leaned on the counter.

Darla hesitated for a second and fidgeted on the barstool.

"Were you a mercenary before you became a bartender?"

"No,"

"Really, you weren't?"

"Yup,"

"How about special forces or something?"

"Nope,"

"Well you had to have some prior fighting knowledge from somewhere," Darla said as she threw her hands up. "There isn't anyone that I know who could fight like how you did without some kind of professional training,"

"Look here Darla," Willow said as she blew another bubble. "First off, I do things on instinct alone. Secondly, what got you interested in my past?" Willow said this with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Darla clearly got the hint and quickly responded,

"N-n-nothing!" she said. "I was just wondering after you easily took out those guys back at the fight club,"

Willow's gaze softened. "Hmph, figures, lots of people ask how I do it after they see me beat up someone twice my size," she took out her revolver. "Guess its just luck,"

"So W-"

 **BANG!**

A shot rang out and missed Willow by inches, shattering a bottle behind her.

"Shit! Darla get over the counter!" Willow shouted as she fired at where she thought the shot came from.

 **BANG!**

 **BANG!**

"Who's shooting us?" Darla shouted over the gunfire.

"I don't know!" Willow shouted back. She fiddled under the counter and shoved a shotgun into Darla's hands. "You can handle a gun right?"

Darla nodded.

"Good, I'm going out back. You shoot anyone who comes from the front, got it?"

"Ok,"

Willow clambered over the countertop and ran into another room, leaving Darla alone in the bar. Darla only shot a gun a couple times back at Mann Co. when she was testing them, but never before she used a gun to shoot some one.

A couple more shots rang out causing Darla to crouch even lower. She peeked her head over the counter to get a better look. The double doors started to bang startling the girl a bit. Darla raised the shotgun and aimed it at the door.

 **BANG!**

The doors were knocked off its hinges and crashed to the floor. Three men walked into the bar. They appeared to be wearing biker gear. The guy in the middle was obviously the leader since he was the tallest of them and also the heaviest. His cronies each held a pistol while he held a large pipe.

"WHERE ARE YOU WILLOW?" the giant bellowed. "I CHALLENGE YOU TO A FIGHT!"

Darla gulped. Her hands tightened around the shotgun. She stood up and was about to pull the trigger when she heard a safety click off next to her.

"Crap," she thought.

* * *

Willow stood in the middle of a circle made up from semi-conscious and wounded bikers.

"Hell you guys don't put up much of a fight don't yah," she said as she cracked her knuckles. "Pathetic,"

She slowly made her way to the front and got out her revolver. She found out that the front doors have been kicked off their hinges.

"Shit, Darla…" she whispered as she maneuvered so she could see inside the bar. She saw the girl tied up in a chair, with her were three more bikers, with one of them being the giant of the gang.

"I'll ask you nicely one more time, where is she?" the giant said.

"I-I don't know, god, how else can I put it for you?" Darla said.

"Shoot her," the giant said. "Maybe it can jog her memory,"

A low whistle caught everyone's attention.

"Tsh, you know that's no way to treat a lady do yah?" Willow said as she leaned against the doorframe.

"GET HER!" the giant shouted.

The bikers opened fire on the bartender, who quickly moved back out of the doorway. She quickly peeked out and blasted a biker in the head before shooting the other in his stomach.

"And then there was one…" she said as she put away her revolver.

"So…you're the fighting bartender I heard about," he said. "I've heard stories about your… capabilities,"

"Hmm, so word did get out about me," Willow mused. "I didn't expect most of them to actually remember, considering the concussions and the near-death experience,"

Suddenly the giant charged forward with great speed and swung his pipe down at her. Instead of dodging it, she swung her leg around and kicked the pipe, shattering it in the process.

The giant growled at Willow before throwing the broken pipe to the side, but before he could do anything Willow jumped up to his face and delivered a painful right hook, which caused him to stumble back.

He spit out some blood in his mouth, before letting out a roar. He charged Willow once again and readied a punch.

Time seemed to slow as he neared Willow. Willow avoided the punch and landed a punch of her own in the giant's gut. While he was momentarily stunned, she made her way onto his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his neck. She flipped backwards, slamming the giant into the ground face first.

"For once, I thought I was getting a challenge," she said as she got up. "Guess I was wrong,"

The giant moaned in response.

Darla's mouth was open in shock in what just happened. Willow had to close it as she went over to untie her.

"Keep that thing open any longer and you'll have flies going in there," she said as she sliced the ropes with her pocketknife. "And what happened with shooting anyone who came in the front door?"

"I couldn't help it," Darla said. "Someone put a gun to my head when I was about to shoot them,"

"Wait…was it one of them who did that?"

"No…"

"Shit! There's one more here!"

A chair was thrown in their direction, but Willow was able to catch it before it hit them. But as Willow turned back to look where it came from a bottle smashed against her face.

"SHIT! FUCK!" she screamed profanities as blood, glass, and the contents of the bottle flowed down her face.

The last biker jumped at the blinded bartender and sunk his knife into her chest, while also knocking her down.

"WILLOW!" Darla shouted as she grabbed one of the pistols lying on the ground.

Willow endured multiple stabs before being able to grab the biker's hand. She got her legs under him and kicked him off her.

"SHOOT HIM!" she yelled.

Darla didn't hesitate and opened fire.

After the biker was riddled with bullet holes, Darla hurried over to check on Willow.

"Fucking camper whore," Willow muttered as she tried to get up, but only got as far as getting on one knee, before Darla stopped her.

"Don't get up," Darla said. "You're going to make it worse,"

"Worse? HA! I've had worse before,"

"Ah…just don't move ok, please, I'm going to get some help," she was about to run out when Willow said,

"If you're going to call the town's hospital, don't,"

"Why not?"

"I'd rather die than be treated by them. They're fucking idiots, I've heard it's because of the water,"

Darla totally forgot about that. Ms. Pauling told her that Teufort's water supply was tainted with lead, causing almost the entire population to become total idiots. That's why everyone in the base drinks bottled water.

Darla racked her brain for another possible hospital in the area.

Then it dawned on her.

"How long do you think you can hold out like that Willow?"

Willow looked down at her wounds.

"Ah, I'd think about thirty minutes, before I pass out at this rate,"

"Ok that's more then enough time,"

"Time for what?"

"To get you medical help," she said as she helped her up. "I think I know someone who can help,"

* * *

 **A/N: So here's the next chapter. Like I said chapters will take longer than usual. However this may be the last before I go on a hiatus. I will post an update detailing more later on.**

 **Review Question: How do you guys like Willow and Darla so far?**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	6. Interlude 2

**A/N: Ditto.**

* * *

 **Location: Unknown military base**

A large pile of corpses lies around a male teen wearing a blue bucket hat under black hair, a gray shirt under a black vest, long black pants, gray boots. He casually pulls a black umbrella from a corpse of a dead soldier.

"Hmm, I was expecting a lot more out of that," he said. "What says you Helena?"

A young woman wipes a bloody knife on the clothes of another dead soldier. Her golden hair was in a bun. She wore a black tank top and long black pants, and wore black combat boots.

"You know they said to go in quietly for a reason you know that right, D.W?" she said.

"But that's no fun…"

Suddenly they heard someone coming down the hallway, D.W readied his umbrella while Helena took out another knife.

"Prefire," D.W said as a blue laser shot out from the tip of the umbrella and bounced from wall to wall as it traveled down the hall.

 **Meanwhile**

Wilcox ran down a hall with Clint close behind her, so far there were not any soldiers to oppose them so far.

"Where are we going?" Clint asked in-between breaths.

"The meet up point," Wilcox said. "My teammates should be around her-duck!"

She tackled Clint to the ground just as a blue colored laser bounced over their heads.

"Goddammit D!" Wilcox yelled down the hall. "It's us!"

"Sorry! Didn't know Wil!" said a man wearing a bucket hat and carried an umbrella hurried over to the two. "I always want to get the first hit before they do,"

"You're fucking crazy, you know that D.W," Wilcox said as she got up.

"That's what I told him as he took on an entire squad by himself," said a blonde hair woman as she caught up with him. "And how did he become our leader again?"

"Luck," D.W said as he casually swung his umbrella around. He turned to Clint. "Ah, you must be Dr. Clint, I'm D.W, that's Helena, and I'm sure Wilcox introduced herself already, did you?"

"Yup," Wilcox said. "Where's Albert?"

"Alberto should be finishing his task…"

An explosion rocked the base.

"Correction: finished," he took out a radio. "Yo Al yah done blowing shit up?"

"Yesiree D!" Albert said back. "Comms are down as well as the anti-air! We're going home boys!"

"That was fast,"

"I know! Idiots label where everything is, makes it might easy!"

"Head over to the pickup partner, over and out!" he put the radio away. "Let's blow this joint,"

 **Time Skip**

"WHERE THE FUCK DID ALL THESE SOLDIERS COME FROM?" yelled Albert. The man had a blue hardhat and wore a black vest over a white shirt. He had a gray pants with brown boots. "There's no way they could've sent reinforcements this fast," he fired a grenade into a crowd of soldiers.

BOOM!

"DID YOU ACTUALLY BLOW UP THE COMMS TOWER?" Helena shouted to him as she threw a knife at a soldier.

"DON'T THINK SO!" he ducked behind a jeep. "DON'T TELL ME THEY HAVE A SECOND ONE,"

The five were fighting a large group of soldiers at the rendezvous point inside the enemy hanger. The hanger was located on the side of a mountain. The group didn't expect to find heavy resistance when they arrived and were surprised to find a lot of enemies.

"Heli's coming in about a minute at the hanger door," D.W said. "When it comes everyone jump in!" he had his umbrella opened and used it as a shield as he fired upon the masses.

Wilcox sprinted around the battlefield gunning anyone in her way down. She used everything at her disposal: fists, her pistols, knives, and grenades, anything that would kill the soldiers.

It seemed that an endless stream of soldiers entered the hanger to fight the five, only to be mowed down and replaced by another. Luckily for them, the transport helicopter arrived and hovered near the entrance of the hanger.

"It's here!" D.W shouted. "Everyone, get to the chopper!"

The group slowly made their way to the entrance and hurried inside the helicopter.

"Wilcox let's go!" D.W said as he boarded.

"Coming!" she said as she sprinted over. She was about ten feet from the chopper when a bullet hit her leg and she fell.

"Oh shit!" D.W quickly got out and picked up Wilcox, his umbrella open and deflecting bullets. "Come on, almost there!"

An explosion knocked the two off their feet.

"Ugh," D.W said. "Wilcox, you ok?" he asked as he grabbed the umbrella.

"Yeah…fuck that hurts,"

"Don't worry once we g- oh crap is that a tank?"

D.W pointed to a large double cannon tank that somehow appeared inside the hanger.

"Gotta move, gotta move, gotta MOVE!" he said as he picked up Wilcox and ran just before the area they were in exploded.

He sliced through soldiers with his umbrella as he dodged shells from the tank. As they got closer to the helicopter, another shell blew them off their feet.

"Damn it!" D.W said. He looked up to find the tank advancing on them. He ran over to Wilcox, grabbed her and ducked behind a concrete divider.

"Wil," he said. "When you get on the chopper, tell them to go,"

Wilcox's eyes shot open.

"Are you crazy D?" she shouted. "You'll be killed!"

"Look," he said slowly. "That tank is going to shoot the copter down if someone doesn't do something to stop it,"

"NO! We are not going to just leave you here!"

A shell hit the helicopter and rocked it a bit. Smoke started coming from its engine.

"Wilcox…go…NOW,"

"T-t-there has to be another way there has to!"

"There isn't Wil, it's either me or everyone. And I'd hate to see everyone die,"

"I'm not leaving wit-" she was suddenly picked up by D.W and thrown into the copter.

D.W aimed at a control panel and shot a laser at it. The panel sparked as the hanger's doors started to close.

"NOOOO!" Wilcox tried to get up, but fell due to her injury.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" D.W shouted to the pilots, who nodded and started flying away from the hanger.

The hanger's doors closed with a loud slam.

* * *

 **A/N: Now a question to ask yourselves is: Is this D.W, Doctor Wheel or is it someone entirely different? Consider this your review question, and something to ponder until the next update.**

 **Ciao,**

 **-D.W**


	7. Hiatus!

**A/N: I'll make this quick for you all. After the next post of the House of Luars I will not be updating for a while. Sorry for those who wanted another chapter for my other stories but in all I just need a break.**

 **BUT!**

 **Fear not! For the hiatus will only last until late August or early September! And in addition I will still be online, so keep submitting those reviews and P.M me if you need anything.**

 **See yah in the fall, or spring, depending where you live.**

 **-D.W**


	8. Potential Rewrite?

**A/N: Um, so readers I've been thinking of doing a rewrite of The Waterhole... no I'm not changing the story line. I'm thinking of adding two additional main characters to the story, and they would be working with Willow. But I want your opinions about this, cause I don't want to change something you guys like, ja?**

 **Anyways, Darla will still be in it, and the two new characters would be female. (If anyone's wondering, I'm better at writing female characters than male for some reason)**

 **So I need reviews with your opinions, NOW!**

 **Random person: But D.W aren't you on a hiatus? Why are you still writing?**

 **Sorta...I usually save each chapter on a computer in case my account goes "BOOM!" but I'm throwing caution to the wind right now by writing on a tablet.**

 **Review please**

 **Auf wiedersehen ("Goodbye" in German)**

 **-D.W**


	9. Two New Faces

A/N: **Ditto. Shoutout to DoctahKreep, Raevenia10152003, TheSeeker1399, savagenoodle, woffly14, and Doctah Sawbones for favoriting and following!**

 **It seems you guys want to see the story continue so on with the story!**

* * *

A sleek, black motorcycle rushed down the dusty road. A cloaked figure sat in the driver's seat. It had a brown colored hood that covered its face and had a billowing cape attached to the hood.

Following close behind the motorcycle was a dusty, green colored pickup truck. The windows were tinted black; giving no indication on who or what was in the driver and passanger seats.

A town came into view for the motorcyclist and the truck. The two slowed down as they entered the city limits. The motorcyclist waved the truck over and pulled to the side, the truck doing the same.

The hooded figure watched as cars passed by them as the truck's door opened. A woman stepped out. She was tall, easily passing six feet, and had a muscular build to her. Despite looking muscular, her stomach showed she either had an appetite or didn't know when to stop eating. She wore an extremely tight, gray shirt, beige shorts, and light gray boots. Her black, shoulder length hair was pulled back neatly behind her back. She had an unamused look on her face.

"This better be good, Gretel," she said, annoyed.

The hooded figure took off her hood. She looked almost the opposite of the first woman. She wasn't as muscular as the first, and was skinny, but she still had some curves on her. She wore a white long sleeved shirt with a green vest. She had a her golden hair tied into two pigtails.

"Ah, are we going the right way, Liz?" Gretel asked, her voice had a German accent to it.

"Oh for fuck sake, Gretel, I was following you the whole time, I thought you knew where we were going," said Liz. "For being a damn good assassin, you are horrible at directions,"

"At least I don't eat like a pig," she retorted.

Liz groaned at the retort. "I'm going to look at the map again, we are so behind schedule. Willow is going to kill us for being a day late,"

"No only you,"

"Why?"

"Cause she's only going to be able to catch you,"

"Oh will you can it with the fat jokes already?" Liz said with a huff as she got back into the truck.

* * *

"So you work for these RED guys?" asked Willow as Darla helped her out of the car. Darla was able to rush the injured bartender to the RED base.

"Not exactly," she said as she was waved off by Willow. "You sure you don't need help standing?"

Willow flinched as she pulled a glass shard from her face. "I was stabbed in the chest, not in my legs dammit,"

"Stubborn much?"

"You'll understand when you get into the bar business," she wiped some blood from her face. "So one of these mercs have medical experience?"

"Uh yeah..." Darla said as she trailed off. "He has experience...but he's kinda...eccentric,"

* * *

"...and the patient woke up, his skeleton was missing, and the doctor was never heard from again!" the RED team's German doctor chuckled loudly as he finished healing Willow. "Now how do you feel?"

"Great! Thanks, uh..."

"Just call me Medic, everyone else does,"

"Ok, Medic, nice story by the way," Darla had introduced everyone as she led Willow to the Med-Bay but Willow was only half-listening.

"Danke, that was how I lost my medical license,"

Willow blinked. "Wait, so you removed someone's skeleton and they lived?"

"Ja, but I do not remember how I did it though,"

"Even though I'm supposed to be horrified by that, I can't bring myself to be disturbed by that,"

Medic chuckled. "Well considering your workplace, I can see why,"

Willow smirked at the comment. "Hmph, I guess so," she grabbed her ruined shirt and started to walk out of the Med-Bay.

"WAIT!" Medic shouted at her just as she touched the double doors. She turned to the ex-doctor.

"What?" she asked.

"You just can't walk out there like that," he said pointing his finger at her chest, the only thing covering her torso was her bra.

"So?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Medic hesitated before saying, "You look...indecent, and there are like eight other men out there,"

"Medic, I work like this sometimes," she said without hesitation.

"Y-y-you WHAT?"

"When the bar gets too hot, I just work like this," she explained. Her breasts weren't that big, but were noticable.

Medic stood there with his mouth open.

"I beat the shit out of anyone who stares, and you are this close to getting a knife in your cranium," she held up her fingers for emphasis.

The German blinked before averting his eyes, and tried to keep them above her chest. "Ah, ok, whatever floats your boat I guess,"

Willow simply grunted and exited the infirmary.

Only to bumping into the last person she wanted to see:

Scout.

Not surprisingly, Scout started to hit on her, even though she was clearly not into him after the events that happened at the bar.

Willow really wanted to beat the crap out of him, but her injuries prevented her from doing so, and she didn't want to fight for no reason.

"Uh hi?" he said nervously. "Guess you're ok?"

" _Maybe he learned to hold his tongue_ ," she thought. ""Yeah I'm fine, I've endured worse before,"

"Uh, yeah..." Willow could tell he was really trying not to look at her breasts. "Do you want me to get a shirt for yah?"

"Nah, I'm fine," she flicked her ponytail and passed by Scout.

* * *

"I'm surprised you've never beat anyone up there," Darla said. The two were currently heading back to Teufort. "But in all seriousness, put a shirt on at least next time will you?"

Willow chuckled. "Can't a girl have some fun now and then?" she said. "You should've seen Sniper's face! Priceless!"

"You're sadistic you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, and I also shot the messenger as well, woop de do,"

Darla's gray truck pulled up to the Waterhole.

"You sure you don't need help cleaning up?" she asked as Willow got out.

"Nah, I got it," she slung her shirt over her shoulder. "See yah girl," and waved Darla off as she drove off.

Willow turned back to the gunhole-riddled bar and sighed. "Welp, nothing's gonna get done if I stand around," she said as she cracked her knuckles.

 **Time Skip**

Willow sat sleeping on the bar counter, her head in her hands. She had the motivation to put another shirt on, and she cleaned the bar up pretty well. The broken windows were boarded up, the doubles doors were put back up. She didn't have to worry about the bodies, the police had taken them away long ago. She finished quicker than she anticipated and now was trying to get a quick snooze before the day started.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be getting that much of a snooze.

 **KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!**

Willow stirred in her sleep before pulling her head out of her hands. "You gotta be fucking me in the arse," she grumbled as she staggered to the front doors. "What the fuck do you want?" she whisper shouted as she opened the door.

The large woman who knocked stepped back a bit from the sudden outburst. "Woah, woah, Willow it's me Liz," she said in a hushed tone.

Willow calmed down a bit. "Oh...where's Gretel?"

"Right here!" said another woman who ran towards them, she was significantly slimmer than the former.

"You two were supposed to be here a day ago," Willow said. "I even gave you directions to my new place,"

"Sorry there, we got a little _sidetracked_ on the way here," Liz said as she casted a look at Gretel.

"Don't let it happen again, when I make a date, I keep the date," she hissed at the two. "Now get in here,"

Willow made her way to one of the bar stools and sat on it. "Don't mind the damage, gun fight broke out here earlier today," she said.

"I assume you didn't have much trouble," Gretel asked as she took a seat.

"Not really,"

"Good, I'd rather not see our supplier go down, our current employer would not be happy with us,"

"So who's it this time?" Willow asked.

"Not who-what," Liz said.

"What? It's not a who?"

"Nope," the large woman said as she shifted on the seat, causing it to creak. "We're taking down an entire company,"

"Which one?"

"The one about a stone's throw from here: Mann Co."

* * *

 **A/N: ...and cliffhanger. I like all the positive reviews coming in for this story. Keep up the liking and I will see you next in the next chapter.**

 **-D.W**


	10. Blood Contract

**A/N: Ditto. Thanks to whoever followed and faved since the last update!**

* * *

 **Flashback**

" _Great, another dealer turned us down, what now?" Gretel asked._

 _"Find another I guess," said Liz._

 _The two walked side by side on the busy sidewalk of Chicago. The two were hired guns, or better known as mercenaries, and were quite good at their jobs. Contacts flew in like flies._

 _The only problem?_

 _Finding a reliable arms dealer that would supply them with ammo and weapons._

 _And so far the two were turned down by every single dealer they came across._

 _Why you ask?_

 _"I'm sorry dolls," a man wearing a green, unzipped jacket over a white shirt, brown slacks, and loafers said. "But I need a steady flow of cash so the weapons can keep coming in, you get me? With you...I don't see that same flow, and don't take it because you're women, no, no..."_

 _"I so wanted to rip his guts out, and maybe draw and quarter him while I'm at it and..."_

 _Liz ignored her partner's torture plan and flipped through a note book. "So Lester is a no-go..." she said to herself as she crossed out his name. "Who's next?" she looked at the next name._

 _'Willow'_

 _"Sounds like a female arms dealer," Liz thought. "Maybe she will take us,"_

 _The two continued towards the location where the next arms dealer stationed herself, and the two found themselves outside a bar called "Pitstop". The bar was quite crowded, despite being only three o'clock._

 _"Are you sure this is the right place?" Gretel asked._

 _"Uh, yeah, I checked the address twice already," the larger woman said. "Considering you have no sense of direction,"_

 _Gretel rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's get this over with. I'm tired,"_

 _The two entered through the doors and into the bar. Normally, bars tended to be loud and chaotic, and it was impossible to control the crowd without some show of force. But what the two saw surprised them._

 _Inside, it was eerily quiet, not like library quiet with a whisper here and there, but it was quiet enough to hear yourself think. The bar patrons were also very orderly as well, either sitting at the counter, tables, or up against the wall, another surprise to the two._

 _"Is it me or does this not feel like a bar?" Liz asked._

 _"Oh it sure is missy," an older man with a white mustache said. "This here serves the best beer in the entire Midwest,"_

 _"Really?" Gretel said._

 _The man nodded. "Yup, best thing since moonshine," he took a chug of his beer. "Now you two are probably wondering why we folks here are behaving ourselves?"_

 _The two nodded._

 _"Well, its because of the owner, Willow. She's as strict as my mother-in-law. Tick her off and you're in for one hell of a beat down,"_

 _Liz and Gretel looked at each other with nervous looks._

 _"She single-handedly took down the Jones gang last week, and boy, those men had the police run for their money," the man continued. "Anyways, nice meeting you,"_

 _"Yeah, you too," Liz said as they walked away from him._

 _"The Jones gang, as in THE Jones gang?" Gretel said in disbelief. "Those guys are notorious- they once held up every bank in the Midwest,"_

 _"Yeah, and most of them are my size," Liz added._

 _ **'CRASH!'**_

 _The sudden noise caught the two's attention. They looked to find a man lying in what used to be a round table._

 _"Touch my ass again and you're dead, got it?! Now scat!"_

 _That voice belonged to a woman in her early twenties, around five and a half feet. Her black hair was disheveled and in her face. She wore a light blue shirt, brown jean shorts, and black sneakers. On her waist was a holster that held a revolver._

 _She pulled her hair back as she watched the man's buddies help him up. The man's nose was bleeding and most likely was broken. "You better get outta here before I make you eat your own testicles!" she said as she whipped out a pocketknife and flicked it open._

 _The men bolted from the bar with their injured friend behind them._

 _The woman closed the knife and picked up a red and blue baseball hat. She put her hair into a ponytail before putting her hat back on._

 _"Is it me or did no one reacted to that at all?" Liz said as she saw that most people ignored what just happened._

 _"They're used to it," the woman said as she walked up the two. "Happens almost every night, hate those fucking creeps. Now are you going to buy something or what?"_

 _Liz hesitated for a bit. "Um, we're looking for Willow-"_

 _"You're talking to her," she said. "Whattya want?"_

 _"Ah, well..."_

 _"C'mon spit it out!" the bartender snapped. "I have things to do,"_

 _The larger woman flinched at the snap, something that Liz never did with people smaller than her. "Weapons," she said._

 _"There, that wasn't too hard was it now?" Willow said as she motioned for the two to follow her into the backroom._

 _"Let me guess, every other dealer turned you two down already?" she asked them._

 _"Yes," Gretel said. "Fucking pricks,"_

 _"Hmm, ok here's the rundown: I'll supply you on one condition,"_

 _"What is it?" Liz asked._

 _"Pay on time,"_

 _"That sounds easy,"_

 _Willow chuckled. "That's what they all say, yet they never do," her mood suddenly turned hostile. "Miss one payment and you're dead, and you two aren't my first violators, understand?"_

 _The two nodded quickly._

 _"Good," she said as she opened a door to a room full of weapons. "Take what yah need, I'll bill you when you leave," she tossed a pistol to Gretel as she left._

* * *

"Wait, did you just say Mann Co.?" Willow asked in disbelief. "As in the company that supplies RED and BLU?"

"Oh so you've heard of it," Gretel said. "Then this should be easy; we go in, kill Saxton Hale, and then collect the rewards,"

"Uh, no, _we_ are not, cause I am not supplying you for this contract,"

This statement shocked the two. "W-w-what?" Liz asked in disbelief. "Why?"

"If Mann Co. goes down then RED and BLU will go too," Willow explained. "And majority of my income here comes from RED,"

"Will, we have to complete this contact," Gretel said. "We signed it with our blood,"

"WHAT?!"

Willow tackled the German woman out of her chair and grabbed her by her collar. "I taught I told you to NEVER accept those types of contracts," she hissed. "A good merc will NEVER and I mean NEVER accept those contracts,"

"I'm sorry Will-"

"Don't fucking 'Will' me!"

"We didn't know it was a blood contract until we signed up," Liz said crossing her large arms. "Never saw it coming,"

Willow let go of Gretel and started to pace back and forward. " _Blood contracts, of all fucking things..._ " she thought.

Blood contracts are contracts which bind the merc or mercs to the task. Failure or backing down of a blood contract means death by the employer in anyway he or she wants it.

"Who employed you? I think I can pull some strings to get you out of it,"

"We don't know..." Gretel said as she fixed her hair. "It was done with a messenger and a phone,"

Willow tapped her hand on the table as she figured out a solution. "Ok, here's the plan: you two have to stay with me until we can figure out who's this employer is, got it?"

The two nodded.

"Good, I need the help too, being the only bouncer here is sure tiring,"

* * *

"Not interested creep," a brown hair woman said as she scoffed at a man trying to hit on her.

"Babe, stop playing hard to get, you know you want me..."

"I said not INTERESTED," she started to get up and walk away when the man suddenly grabbed her shirt.

"Hey, don't make this harder than what it should be-"

"AHEM!"

The man looked behind him to find a large woman standing behind him with her arms crossed and staring daggers into his eyes.

"Ma'am? Is this man bothering you?" she asked the woman.

Seconds later the man was thrown out of the bar and smashed headfirst into a car, setting off its alarm.

Liz dusted her hands as she closed the doors behind her. "Fucking pervs," she mumbled under her breath.

"See? Told yah there would at least be one tonight," Willow said as she slid a beer to a waiting customer. "Wonder what's Gretel doing now?"

A crash from the other side of the bar answered her question.

"Liz!" Gretel shouted. "Give me a hand here!"

"Coming Gretel!" Liz said.

" _Idiots never learn,_ " Willow thought as a scream was heard. She looked up to find a certain someone. "Darla! Back so soon?"

The green eyed girl nodded. "Hi Willow," she said. "I'm just checking up on you,"

"I'm fine," Willow replied. "I've been through shit like that before,"

Darla nodded. "So I see you've hired some help," she motioned to the two women who where trying to break up a brawl in the back corner of the bar.

"Yeah..." she quickly cooked up a lie. "After what happened two days ago, I've decided to beef up security,"

"Hmph, ok,"

"Yo Will!"

The sudden shout behind Darla made the timid girl jump. She turned to find a woman probably as large and maybe as strong as Heavy.

"Jeezus, you're twitchy," she said to Darla. "Anyways, we broke up the brawl, and I believe half of them at least have broken bones, and are bleeding internally. What do we do with them?"

"How much are we talking about?"

"Eeh, seven?"

 **'CRACK!'**

"Auuuuuuuugh!"

"Make that eight,"

Willow blew a strand of hair out of her face as she thought. "Just get an ambulance down here," she said.

The large woman nodded and walked away from the two.

"Nimble isn't she?" Willow asked Darla.

"Yeah...what's their names?"

"The big one's Liz, and the other one is Gretel,"

Darla's eyes widened. "You hired the Twin Daggers?"

"You know them?"

"Know them? They're the most infamous mercenary duo in the Western Hemisphere, the mercs talk about them all the time,"

"Ok..." Willow wasn't really listening. She was more focused on the fact she had to clean up the blood, and glass off the floor after the paramedics carted the injured away.

"So why them?"

"What?"

"Why did you hire them out of all people you could've hired. It must've costed you a fortune,"

"They're friends,"

"You're friends with them? How?" she asked in disbelief.

Willow motioned Darla to come closer. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes,"

"I'm a black arms dealer, and I'm their personal supplier,"

"No way,"

"Way..." she pulled out a submachine gun from under the counter. "You won't see this at your local gun store, would you?"

Darla could only stare in shock.

Willow put the gun away. "Here's another thing," she grabbed Darla's hair to move her closer.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, this needs to stay under wraps, but you need to know this," Willow whispered. "Someone's targeting Mann Co,"

"WHA-!"

Willow clamped her mouth shut. "Shuuuuuuuuuu, under wraps..."

"Sorry!"

"A day ago, Liz and Gretel came in saying they've got a contract to take down Mann Co, and Saxton Hale," she explained. "I've already convinced them to back down, but there's a problem,"

"What is it?"

"It's a blood contract,"

"A what?"

"It basically means failure or backing down results in death ok?"

Darla nodded.

"So I need you to find out who wants to topple Mann Co., in other words, find out all of Mann Co.'s enemies,"

"W-w-w-why?"

"So I can negotiate with the employer, and release the two, please Darla..."

"O-o-ok, I'll try and figure something out, Mr. Hale always leaves important papers out, and makes me file them,"

"Good, now-" she made a zipper motion over her mouth.

"Got it,"

* * *

 **A/N: So I'm not listing people who followed or faved anymore when the number gets over 20, or its been too long since the last update. It's too much of a hassle to find out who's who.**

 **Review Question: How's the story so far?**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


	11. Finding Info and BLUs

**A/N: Ditto. Sorry if this took a bit long. School and got caught up writing The Rift stuff.**

* * *

"I really hope I don't get caught for this," Darla muttered to herself as she went through the multiple messy filing cabinets inside Saxton Hale's office. Saxton Hale had a particular habit of not leaving things where they were, leaving Darla and Ms. Pauling to put them back. Even if he did put them back, it was usually messy. "There is nothing here except for hate mail, and weapon shipment papers," she threw aside a bunch of papers in a huff before adjusting her glasses.

 _"Why would anyone want to topple Mann Co. anyways?"_ she thought.

"But sir you must-"

"What is it Mr. Bidel? For the past ten minutes you've been yapping me while I was having my breakfast steak. Now what is it?"

Darla whipped around and quickly tried to find a place to hid, she wasn't supposed to be in here without Ms. Pauling. She quickly hid behind a statue of a yeti.

"Mr. Hale, we've received some information from our sources that highly suggest that Mann Co. is being targeted by an outside source," the butler said. "I suggest you should do something about it,"

"Someone wants to take down my company?" Saxton replied. "Well then they will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands if they wanted to..."

Hale stopped talking for a dramatic pause, but only got an awkward pause instead.

"...not what I was looking for but- do we know who or whom is targeting Mann Co? Cause if it's that hippy group again-"

"I assure you it's not the hippies again, sir,"

"What about Gray Mann? That bastard better not come back to life,"

Bidel shook his head. "The mercs completely obliterated the body of Mr. Mann through some unconventional means, and they've dismantled his entire robot army,"

Hale's face twisted into a grimace. "Bidel, have Pauling and her assistant look after this. I've got a white shark to beat up,"

"Yes sir,"

Darla sighed as both men left the office and returned to the filing cabinets.

* * *

"So this the place Demo?" BLU Scout asked the black Scotsman.

"Aye, I've overheard from me RED counterpart that this place serves the best drinks,"

The Bostonian and Scotsman were standing outside the "famed" Waterhole bar. Only Demo wanted to come to the place, but the others wanted someone to watch the drunk, and Scout drew up the short straw.

"C'mon then cyclops, let's go get whatever you want,"

Before the two could do anything else, they saw a guy literally fly out of the bar through the double doors before landing on the ground and eating dirt. Then they saw a woman who size rivaled Heavy's.

"Next time you touch my friend's ass, your head is going right up yours!" she shouted, pointing towards the man before returning inside the bar.

"Something's telling me not to go in there," Scout said and started to pull the Scotsman away.

"Lad, as long as you keep your mouth shut we should be fine,"

"My mouth? What about yours?"

"I'm drunk! You don't have an excuse!"

"You know I think that's what got that guy kicked out," Scout said, motioning to the guy, who vomited before staggering away.

"Whatever lad,"

The two entered the bar and gave a look around. The large woman was sitting on a stool near the door and gave the two a look before returning her attention to the other parts of the bar. Soft music played on a jukebox sitting on the counter. But something was unsettling about the atmosphere, it was quiet.

Too quiet for a bar with this much people inside.

"You know Demo, I think I should wait outside..." Scout started to walk out before getting grabbed by Demo.

"Don't think you're running out me are yah? Man up, lad!"

* * *

So far tonight was slightly more relaxing for Willow. With the help of her two new employees, it reduced the stress that Willow had ever since she opened the bar. Mainly the stress with drunken bar patrons. Tonight only one person was kicked out because he had the great idea of groping Gretel's butt.

And he shouldn't had done it in front of her partner/BFF.

How Liz handled it was almost comical...until she heard him hitting the ground with a thud.

 _"Maybe I am sadistic,"_ she thought as she tapped idly on the counter, a small smirk on her face as she watched the entire ordeal. Then her eyes saw something, two somethings. Walking into the bar was Scout and Demo, except they were wearing blue colored uniforms instead. _"I wonder if these are the BLU guys I'd heard about?"_

"One bott-er one CASE of your finest scrumpy, lass!" Demo said a little too loud.

"Money?" she said back.

"Uh?" Demo started looking in his pockets. "Tab?"

"No money, no brewskis, sorry house rules,"

Demo groaned. "Scout, can I borrow...?"

"Money's back at the base, cyclops,"

Demo slammed his face onto the counter and began mumbling something incoherent into the wood.

"Soooooo...you guys the BLU guys I've heard about?" Willow asked.

"Yes we are and..."

"Flirt with me and I'll cut your balls off," she didn't allow the Scout to continue what he was saying, for she knew the Scouts were most likely going to flirt with her. "I've already dealt with your RED counterpart, and I'd rather not get my hands dirty...again,"

"You killed him!" Scout shouted in shock.

"No, just knocked him out, bad choice of words am I right?" she chuckled.

"Yeah..."

"You know...can you do me a favor?"

"Favor?"

She nodded.

"Like what?"

"Oh nothing, just pick something up for me," she said. "Maybe give you two a case for your trouble,"

"We'll do it!" Demo said as he shot up. 'What is it now?"

"I have a shipment coming in, and I need to pick it up. I would send someone like those two to do it but as you can see," she motioned around. "I'd rather not,"

"Aye, we'll do it!"

"What abo-" Demo covered Scout's mouth.

"Good! It should be at the post office," she said. "Oh and one other thing..."

"What?"

Her expression darkened. "It better not be in shambles or else..." she whipped out her pocketknife and threw it at a patron who had Liz in a chokehold. The knife embedded itself in the man's neck and he fell to the ground screaming.

"..."

Demo and Scout could only look in horror as the man writhed on the ground, blood spraying from the wound.

"Got it?"

* * *

"Hold this," Ms. Pauling said as she handed Darla a smoking revolver. "Now is that the last guy on the list?"

"Uh...yeah,"

"Does it look like suicide?"

"...I guess so?"

The two were standing in a lavish apartment and in front of them was a slightly overweight man in an armchair . He wore a traditional suit and tie and had a parting hairline. Blood slowly trickled out of the bullet wound on the side of his head. In his right hand, a revolver similar to theirs.

"Good," she said, blowing a stand of hair out of her face. "And I thought he wouldn't ever stop talking, what's next?"

"..."

"Darla?"

"What..?" she blinked. "Oh, sorry, I blanked out. What was that?"

"You ok? Cause that's like the third time today you've done that,"

"T-t-that's nothing, my mind just...wanders sometimes,"

"...ok, so what's next?"

"Um, met with a Mr. Halberd?"

"Mr. Halberd...this will be interesting,"

* * *

 **A/N: I ran out of ideas...I'm surprised how much people like this story, let me know why you guys do in a review.**

 **Till next time,**

 **-D.W**


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